


Death in Paradise Alternative Universe Series Three: Episode 2  - Deadly Business.

by HeatherTN



Series: Death In Paradise Alternative Universe Series Three [2]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeatherTN/pseuds/HeatherTN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My 'Second Episode' in A 'Death in Paradise Alternative Universe Series 3'</p><p>A body has been found under the balcony of a beachfront hotel in Honoré.  Richard is forced to confront his past yet again. Fidel has some unexpected news and finds the pressure his new role as Police Sergeant on his married life is beginning to take it's toll. </p><p> </p><p>The characters and concept of Death in Paradise belongs to Robert Thorogood and Red Planet Productions. Just borrowing ‘em for a little bit until after supper.  Other original characters are all mine!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Lottie Watkins yawned as she slowed her run down to approach the rocky part of the town beach. Several of the smaller hotels and guest houses abutted the beach forming an uneven sea wall, with overhanging balconies that somehow survived storm surges and high tides. But it was also a good place to walk and run as they provided some shelter from the hot rising sun.

After placing her iPod (TM) earplugs in to listen to some relaxing music, Lottie carefully picked her way over the small rocks down on to the more sandy areas and began her run close to the sea wall. Her mind started to go into ‘Zen Mode’ as she focussed on her breathing to relax in to the run itself, so when she needed to get back up on to the road leading out of Honoré and out towards the East Bluff, she could do so smoothly and not put too much strain on her knees.

So taken up with her meditation, Lottie failed to notice the large object in front of her until she collided and crashed over what turned out to be a very dead human body....

 

Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey looked up at her chief, Detective Inspector Richard Poole, taking a moment to quietly examine him. He didn’t look quite as tired as the day before but was still withdrawn and sad. Police Officer Dwayne Myers and Police Sergeant Fidel Best remained silent except to bid their chief a good morning and go about their work quietly and efficiently.

She had been shaken to the core when Richard had returned from England two days before after attending his mother’s funeral, briefly calling in to the station before continuing on to his beach shack. Camille had taken some post out later that evening to find him very distressed. When she had asked him if he was ok, Richard broke down in tears and all she could do was reach out and this time, he had accepted her comfort.

Yesterday Camille returned to the shack to check on him. She had panicked for a moment as it was Ten O’ Clock in the morning but the blinds were down and the doors shut. Through the slats, she could see him lying fully clothed on his bed and had knocked loudly until he had woken up and answered, looking like _merde_. He had invited her in, apologising about having to take a very necessary visit to the bathroom, by which then Camille had headed down the steps in to the small kitchen to make him a cup of tea.

Eventually Richard had emerged clean shaven but still looking pale and drawn and had accepted the tea, drinking it quietly. Their conversation was revealing, with Richard opening up about his previous life as a child divided between a highly dysfunctional home and an indifferent boarding school, isolated and living in fear of ridicule and failure, of his last conversation with his father and including the alarming admission he had briefly considered suicide when he had scattered his mother’s ashes. After an hour or so where at least he had eaten some food, Richard insisted he would be at the station the next day, so she had left him to his own thoughts.

Camille sighed and continued with her work, occasionally glancing up at Richard smiling at him when their eyes finally met. He had given a half smile back as an attempt to reassure her, she thought. The quietness of the office was broken by Fidel’s desk phone ringing.

“There’s a body on the beach under Alfonso’s B and B. Possible murder.” Fidel announced, grabbing his cap.

Richard stood and quietly followed his colleagues out of the station, waiting silently as Fidel, Dwayne and Camille packed the scene of crime kit in to the back of the Defender and then moved in to the driver’s seat for the short trip down the beach front. Within ten minutes the area had been cleared, Dwayne and Fidel started to cordon it off with tape while Richard and Camille armed themselves with non allergic gloves and shoe covers before making their way down to the beach.

 

The heat of the sun and drying seaweed at the water’s edge had started to attract flies, and a fair few had descended on the already bloating body of the victim. As was his habit, Richard took his time in surveying the surroundings, noting how the body was lying at an angle against the wall, the legs tucked back at the knees, probably pushed up to the wall a few times on the receding tide. There was little else in the way of debris around the area so Richard moved closer to the body, to be joined by Camille.

The local duty medical examiner joined them and she confirmed the victim had been shot through the head, entry wound up through the right cheek bone, exiting up out of the skull and considered that to be the probable cause of death. Fidel arrived and started to photograph the area and the body itself and when he had finished, he nodded to Camille and Richard that they could continue.

“The woman up on the terrace came across the body when she was going for her usual run..” Camille said, pointing to a very distressed witness being comforted by friends up on a sun terrace jutting out over them.

“Any other witnesses?” Richard asked, now in full ‘detective’ mode.

“None as yet.” Camille replied, whilst busily re-gloving her hands.

Now standing either side of the body, Richard noted the extensive wound on the right cheek. Then both he and Camille began to examine the area around the body in tandem. The bloating which had begun was not a good indicator of time of death since it was accelerated by the heat. The features were intact but there was a very obvious exit wound with some loss of the skull to the upper left occipital area, but the entry wound was quite small, possibly shot at close range with a small hand gun, so Richard thought.

Camille had begun a touch search, then checking the front trouser pockets, with Richard doing the same on his side. They retrieved a mobile phone and a small wallet and bagged them for examination later.

Richard rubbed his chin with his usual frown, the cogs in his mind beginning the journey of putting the - so far - very few pieces of the jigsaw together. The victim was male possibly mid to late thirties, clothed, light tan, clothes from a well known exclusive brand. No jewellery or other personal effects except for a smart phone and wallet containing an American Express Platinum Card, a Visa platinum, and dollar notes amounting to a couple of hundred, signs of a business man that hadn’t been robbed.

Richard sat back on his heels, taking in what he had seen but then became aware, all too acutely aware, of the body. In a flash he wasn’t seeing a thirty to forty something male, but a woman in her late seventies, his mother.

Camille had finished bagging the items recovered, including immersing the mobile phone in to a bag of rice to draw off the moisture. She looked up to discuss her ideas with Richard only to find him staring at the body before him.

“Richard.” she called, but he didn’t respond.

“Richard!” Camille called raising her voice.

His eyes widened as his head shot up. He looked at Camille, clearing his throat while rising up from his crouch.

Camille looked at him but his expectant raised eyebrow was a sign for her to continue and Camille realised now was not the time to ask if he was ok.

“Right. Well I can’t see anything else here. We’ll have to wait for the post mortem now. Camille?” He said, inclining his head to her in his usual fashion as if nothing happened.

“Deceased is Martin Bayliss according to the name on his cards, but no age given. It appears he has been shot with the bullet entering here,” Camille pointed to the wound on Bayliss’ cheek “and exited here at the back of the skull.” She stood up shrugging her shoulders, “but no other obvious injuries found as yet.

Richard nodded, folding his arms for a moment, his lips pursed. Looking up he called over to Fidel.

“All right. Fidel, Dwayne keep searching along this wall for a while longer. I don’t think there is anything else for the moment but it’s worth a check. We’ll see you back at the station when you’re done.”

With one last glance at the scene, Richard marched up off the beach without another word with Camille tow.


	2. Chapter 2

Lady Gillian Hyde-Bulmer - Countess of Penrice being her official title - stretched cautiously as she rose from her bed, her back feeling stiff from recent work. She didn’t start out to get so involved but as time went on, her husband, Sir James Hyde-Bulmer, Earl of Penrice, had just let her run with the business and she had thrived on it.

One of the joys with a marriage of convenience - because that’s what her forth marriage was - is that no one really cared about how she conducted her life so long as she was discreet, attended the functions, dressed well and gave the appearance of the goodly wife. There was no heir to worry about, James was not fertile and was glad of the fact, so a nephew would take the reins after James departed, and Gillian was going to make sure that rather being a ‘Lady Dowager’ she would have made enough of her own impression on James’ export business - if all went well - ensuring she would live in a luxury of her own making.

Climbing out of the oversized bed, Gillian headed to the en-suite bathroom for a nice body easing shower. She had been busy the previous evening completing some necessary exercises to clear out the rubbish and bringing in some much needed changes to her life and business. Her left arm was painful for some reason and there was a slight swelling on her left hand. No matter, this sort of thing happened in the tropics.

 

Sir James quietly poured over the stock reports on his laptop. Although in his eighties, he liked to think he still possessed a smart mind and liked to surround himself with beautiful and challenging things, such as Gillian. She wasn’t of ‘stock’ as to say from any aristocracy but his earldom was so minor, nobody cared. She could be a bitch though and he knew of the string of lovers Gillian had indulged herself with over their eight year marriage, but she was also very sharp, an excellent business woman and made all the right moves at social gatherings.

But James was beginning to tire of being slowly pushed aside. He didn’t mind her taking over the business as his key board member, but he wished she would keep him abreast of what was happening and regretted not taking more of an interest in the business. But at eighty three and tired, he was beyond caring. If it folded there and then, he had invested in property and other ventures so he would never lack for anything.

Reflecting on his wife, James knew Gillian’s frequent late nights indicated to him her ‘interests’ were sliding out of the board room again and with the new local manager Martin Bayliss. James was under no illusion what the ‘late night conferences’ were really about. But no matter, he was old anyway and really didn’t care that much, the pleasures of the flesh being confined to a good brandy and an occasional pleasuring from Gillian whenever she felt generous.

 

Christopher Laine was worried. He should have heard from Bayliss by now as the load would be in Saint-Marie within a couple of days. He was meant to have met up with Martin yesterday evening to discuss tactics, especially as Bayliss wanted the two of them to get a better cut from the senior partner. Instead Chris got an unaddressed envelope with a note that had ‘postponed’ typed on it. He tried contacting Bayliss but with no answer from his mobile there was not much else he could do. So was relieved when he heard his phone ring and Bayliss’ number appear.

 

Camille checked the last known dialled number and also the messenger service. There both bore fruit as they were the same number. A male voice answered, sounding anxious and launching in to tirade.

“Hello, I am not the owner of this phone. My name is Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey of the Saint-Marie Police force.”

“How did you get this phone?” a male voice replied, “Did Martin loose it?”

Camille had succeeded in finding someone who apparently knew the victim.

“How well do you know the owner of this phone?” She replied, “And who it is I am speaking to?”

The caller hung up. No matter, they would track them down soon enough.

 

Dwayne happily gunned the Enfield along the East Bluff road out towards the headland. He was used to taking the back road out to the beach where the Chief’s shack was. But this time was heading towards the point where an abandoned car had been found by some tourists. They were still waiting close to the car when Dwayne arrived.

After parking up, Dwayne removed his helmet, stowed it away and walked over giving a big reassuring smile to the tourists who happened to be two very nice young ladies. They had seen the car earlier but no one around and had become concerned as the driver side was still opened when they had passed back that way.

Dwayne reassured them they had done the right thing by calling it in. He noted the registration number and called it in to Fidel for a DMV check. After that, all of a sudden, Dwayne found himself at the scene of a crime, as the car was registered to one Martin Bayliss.

 

Richard had set up the white board, adding various photographs of the victim both dead and alive. The means had been an obvious bullet through the head. Motive and opportunity would follow, as soon as they could get a suspect. Camille and Fidel had gone to track down the owner of the number that had been picked up on the victim’s phone. With a stroke of luck a car had been found registered to the victim, so Dwayne was setting up a temporary scene of crime area there. But Dwayne would be on his own for a while because although he was the senior detective in the station, there was one thing Richard lacked that everyone else seem to have and that was a vehicle of his own.

He sighed. When he was on call, Richard would have the run of the Defender, otherwise he was at the mercy of being a side car victim of Dwayne’s motorcycle. This one was shinier but no less alarming to be driven in, but at least the side car was correctly situated for right hand driving. With the old Triumph, the side car was never adjusted for the right hand drive and Richard had many terrifying moments where he was sat in the bloody thing right in the middle of the road with oncoming traffic.

But for all the oddness of the above, now he felt isolated. Usually he would not be bothered as he would be ruminating over the case. Normally he and Camille would go and question any involved together, but not knowing the state of the caller, the younger and fitter Fidel was the better choice. In a rare moment of comedy, Richard had decided someone was needed to defend any suspect from Camille’s considerable experience in self defence and unarmed combat.

Ever since their first case together, where Camille had been nearly strangled to death by a murderous butler, it had scared her enough that she requested to have further training as – she had reasoned – there had to be a better way to break away from William’s grip on her throat. She had been determined not to let that happen again.

Out the back of the station, Richard had been alarmed to find a punch bag hanging from a branch of a tree and even more alarmed to see the efficient and energetic way that Camille had been kicking and punching at it. Although Richard had been trained in self defence, restraint and breakaway methods, it had been a long, long time since he had attended any form of combat training. That fact alone had made him feel a little more useless than he did when he had got out of bed that morning.

Normally he would have gruffed at the thought, but now just felt so sad that he had become a liability to the team due to his lack of wheels and youth. Taking a deep breath, he returned and sat heavily at his desk, not able to deduce anything or even think at all.

 

Parking the Defender across from the house that had been identified as the residence of one Christopher Laine - the person that had answered Bayliss’ phone when Camille had called the numbers - Camille and Fidel sat for a short while studying the large white colonial style house in front. After a while both exited the Defender and cautiously approached the main gate, because they had no idea who it was they would be dealing with.

Fidel gave a loud knock to the door, waiting a few moments before trying again. The two were about to leave when the door opened slowly and a nervous pale face peeked out at them.

“Mr Laine?” Camille asked, showing her police shield, “I am Detective Sergeant Bordey and this is Police Sergeant Fidel Best. I tried speaking to you yesterday by ‘phone but we were cut off.”

The door opened more widely revealing a somewhat thin man who appeared to be shaking like a leaf.

“Ah, yes, er.. sorry I thought you were a hoax caller using Martin..sorry I mean Mr Bayliss’s phone. Does he know you have his phone?” Laine was trying to sound relaxed but failing miserably.

“May we come in?” Camille asked, keeping her voice calm. She was convinced the man in front of her would either bolt or pass out.

Laine beckoned the two police officers in to his home. He felt sick, cops of all people coming in to his house! He realised he should not have hung up so quickly when they had called him.

“Mr Laine, how well do you know Martin Bayliss?” Fidel asked.

“Quite well. I’m an assistant manager of Bulmer Enterprises, Martin is the senior manager. Excuse me but what is this about?”

Fidel looked at Camille then carried on.

“I am sorry, but Mr Bayliss was found dead on Honoré Town Beach this morning. Your mobile phone number was the most recent he had called.” Fidel said quietly.

Laine exhaled slowly and sat back. So that’s what had happened.

“When did you last speak to Mr Bayliss?” Camille asked. For a moment it appeared that Laine had not heard her.

“Er, ah, I was supposed to meet up with him last evening but I got a message that the meeting had been cancelled. I didn’t think any more about it until my phone rang earlier. I’m sorry I hung up but I thought it was a joke.”

Camille didn’t quite buy Laine’s answer and the look on Fidel’s face indicated he hadn’t either.

Camille continued.

“How long have you known Mr Bayliss?”

Laine took a moment to think about his answer, he wanted to get this right. He knew he was in potentially in enough trouble as it is since the consortium would not be happy with the fact one of their middle men was out of action. But it could work to his advantage in the fact there might be an opportunity to take over and start reaping some better rewards.

However, nothing was going to get anywhere with the police involved. Honoré’s little police force was getting quite a reputation for effective law enforcement and taking out some well known traffickers.

“Oh for about three years when I started work for Bulmer's in London although I have only been in Saint-Marie for six months. We are expanding in to this area to so to open up into South America. The company exports and trades in mining ventures.”

Laine hoped that statement didn’t sound too rehearsed. But it was best not to be too shady with the info.

“Might I ask Detective, what happened to Martin, do you know?” Laine was curious.

Camille looked at him.

“We are not sure yet beyond Mr Bayliss being found on the town beach, possibly drowned and brought in by the tide.” Camille wasn’t going to give everything away.

Laine nodded.

Fidel joined in the conversation.

“We have to ask Mr Laine, did Mr Bayliss have any enemies? Would you know of anyone who would want to do him harm?

Laine’s anxiety grew.

“I’m not sure. Are you saying this wasn’t an accident?” He asked.

“We have to ask ,” Fidel replied, “as we still have to ascertain the cause of Mr Bayliss’s death so need to explore all possibilities.”

“Well all I can tell you is that is quite a competitive business with high stakes. Martin is a trouble shooter if you will, especially when exploiting areas of possible investment. I know he is trusted by the board to look after their interests.”

The interview continued for another thirty minutes, Laine stating he had spent the evening alone after the apparent cancellation with Byaliss but Camille and Fidel were not getting any further than what Laine had told them. He did tell them that the founder of Bulmer Enterprises and his wife, who was also the Chair of the Board and Director of the Company were vacationing in Saint-Marie.

After the police had left, Laine made an urgent phone call. The senior partner would not be pleased at the events.

 

Richard looked over the interview notes and was puzzled. Bulmer Enterprises was fairly well known in London as one of the smaller but highly successful export companies around, but not much was known about its founder apart from the odd press cutting of his being received at Buckingham Palace. Richard also wondered why a base of operations of a successful company was being set up in Saint-Marie since there didn’t appear to be any particular advantage to the location. Something about this did not sit right in his mind.

His thoughts were interrupted by Fidel.

“The post mortem results are though. The head wounds are definitely caused by a gunshot that was immediately fatal, possibly at close range. Coroner says a small hand gun such as a .32 calibre. Also there appears to be injuries consistent with a fall from a height but is not able to ascertain if these were post mortem or not.”

Richard felt energised for the first time in a considerable while, even the slight cough signalling the start of a cold didn’t dampen his enthusiasm. At last something to take his mind of recent events, even though it was still related to death he had thought ruefully.

“Well from that it’s almost certain Bayliss was murdered. I think a closer search around the area where Bayliss’s car has been apparently abandoned is warranted. Fidel, call up some volunteer help and get out there, Dwayne will need a hand. I want that area searched for the slightest clue. I have a feeling a bullet is out there somewhere.”

Fidel nodded, leaving to repack the defender and organise some of Saint-Marie’s volunteer police to assist with the search. He looked at one piece of equipment that made him smile, the trusted metal detector which was one of the more sophisticated pieces of forensic equipment the little police force had as its back up.

Camille looked at Richard and found he had perked up, a case to get his teeth into now some facts had been ascertained. Richard was the only person she really knew who got fired up at the word ‘murder’ and not even the events of the past week or so could dampen his enthusiasm. She marvelled at the fact he could bounce back. As horrible a murder was, at least Richard had something to keep him occupied for now.

The next task was to inform Bayliss’s employers, who were on holiday on Saint-Marie. Sir James tended to be a reclusive figure by all accounts, semi-retired but apparently his wife, Lady Penrice was now chair of the board of trustees. Rather than search the internet about the couple, Richard decided to interview them fresh, so as not to allow any bias but would do so more in depth afterwards.

“Camille, you’re with me. I think we need to talk to Sir James Hyde-Bulmer and see what else we can discover.” He said grabbing his briefcase and hurrying out of door.

Camille smiled, this was going to be fun as both the Defender and Dwayne’s ‘bike were in use. She waited patiently until Richard appeared again in the doorway.

“Very funny!” He grouched.

Camille could not help but laugh. For all that Richard was annoyed he had rushed out in to the square before he realised that a vehicle wasn’t available, Camille’s resulting laughter was soothing music to his ears.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Camille drove up the steep hill out of Honoré towards ‘The Plantation’, an exclusive hotel set in the grounds of an old coffee plantation. Beside her Richard was flicking through some paperwork, a somewhat puzzled frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, whilst Richard continued to flick away.

“Hmm, not sure but why would a successful export company want to set up another overseas department in Saint-Marie? They have offices in Belize, Rio De Janero, Mexico City, all over the place. Unless...”

“Unless what..?” Camille asked.

“Hmm, not sure. Just not sure yet.”

Camille rolled her eyes as she continued to drive.

 

The Defender wound its way along a straight road, edged by Jasmine, Gardenia, Oleander – all of which Richard noted with some delight as they had been trimmed and well maintained, rather than the unchecked rambling version of their wild cousins – then the large plantation house opened up in front of them.

After parking the vehicle at a discrete distance from the entrance, the two detectives crossed the drive way and into the large open lobby, opulent with the air of Colonial elegance and exclusivity. Richard quietly asked the whereabouts of Sir James Hyde-Bulmer whilst holding up his police shield and was directed to a villa at the back of the main plantation house.

The walk to the villa was brief, soon Richard and Camille found themselves stood by a wide double front door. Richard gave a rap with the highly ornate door knocker, and looked at Camille whilst they both patiently waited. Eventually they heard footsteps and stepped back a little as the door opened.

Richard froze, his jaw dropping a little as Lady Gillian Hyde-Bulmer appeared in front of him.

“Hello Richard, long time, no see.” She said, a slight smile on her lips.

It was Camille’s turn to be a little shocked.

Richard’s face had darkened, his hand gripping his briefcase tightly, left hand tucked behind his back. He didn’t say a word and Camille noticed the exquisitely dressed woman in the door way didn’t move either. The silence was becoming deafening, and after a few minutes of an obvious stand-off between Richard and the woman, Camille felt she had to act, say something as the looks between the two went from initial surprise to downright hostile.

“Excuse me, Sir?” She nudged Richard a little but he didn’t respond so taking the bull by the horns, Camille spoke.

“I am Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey and this is Detective Inspector Richard...Poole...” Her voice slowed “..but I guess you already know...Excuse me, what is going on?” She asked looking back and forth at the two of them, the atmosphere now thick enough to be cut by a chainsaw.

Richard growled, “Camille, allow me to introduce you to Gillian Bickleigh, or Poole as she was known for six months back in nineteen ninety three.”

Richard straightened, regaining his composure and addressed the woman in front of him.

“Lady Hyde-Bulmer I presume. You’ve come a long way since I last saw you Gillian.” He said.

It was Camille’s turn to be shocked as the truth of the situation dawned on her. Richard continued talking, his voice formal and but a little unsteady.

“We are here because we have some sad news about an employee of yours, one Martin Bayliss? I’m afraid he was found dead this morning in Honoré. We need to ask you some questions for our enquiries.”

Gillian raised an eyebrow but did not take her eyes off Richard.

“Then you had better come in. My husband is sitting out in the garden veranda, if you would be so kind as to follow me.”

Camille had stepped back to allow Richard to go in ahead of her, but he seemed strangely reluctant, ushering Camille ahead of him. Normally he would enter first Camille had come to understand, as a protective measure rather than as a means of asserting his authority. Looking at Richard as she passed by, Camille walked in through the door, keeping her own head a little high. Gillian Hyde-Bulmer or whatever her name was, had an air about her Camille did not like, an air that spoke volumes and had Camille’s instincts screaming, not in the least because of Richard’s hostility and growing nervousness.

They were lead through an expansive lounge with a high ceiling through ornate patio doors, out on to a wide veranda, designed to keep the worst of the sun at bay.

“James, Darling, we have visitors. The police I’m afraid. Something’s happened to Martin.” Gillian said, while leaning slightly over a grey haired man who was dressed in the traditional ‘Colonial’ cream coloured linen suit, shirt and cravat. He looked up and her and then at the two police officers in front. His blue eyes narrowing as Richard came into view. Richard himself began to feel very uncomfortable.

“Sir James Hyde-Bulmer, may I introduce my colleague Detective Sergeant Bordey and I am...” Richard’s introduction was cut off..

“Yes, yes, I am guessing the local Detective Inspector. Also one, if I am not mistaken by the looks of you, of my dear wife’s ex husbands.” Sir James said but without malice.

“Actually my first and worst, Darling.” Replied Gillian, her voice mocking.

Richard harrumphed loudly..

“As I was saying, this is my colleague Camille Bordey and as you so rightly say I am Detective Inspector Richard Poole of the Saint-Marie Police. We need to ask you about Martin Bayliss who has unfortunately been found dead this morning, on the town beach.”

Speech done, Richard rocked forward on his toes with both hands firmly clasping his briefcase behind his back, then nodded at Camille to continue with the interview.

After some detailed questioning by Camille, with Richard not uttering a word, the interview came to an end. Sir James and Gillian not giving much more information about Bayliss, although the wry look the Earl of Penrice aimed at his wife gave Richard the impression there was more to their relationship with their manager than the two were letting on.

But for now, Richard had a thumper of a headache growing. It was bad enough that out of all the people in the world he had to not only bump into, but also having to keep on his particular radar, his 'ex' who had finally and very thoroughly smashed any confidence Richard had around women. Camille was all too correct when she had asked if women in general made him nervous. They did, not in the least his Detective Sergeant and his ex-wife.

Old hurts and past humiliation being dragged up aside, what Richard was dreading the most was the Bordey interrogation that was inevitably going to occur. Bracing himself, Richard gave a curt nod to the Hyde-Bulmers and left with Camille following close behind. Once out of earshot, Richard turned on Camille.

“Don’t!” He hissed.

It didn’t work.

“Once we’re out of here, I am going to park up somewhere quiet and you *will* tell me every single thing about your relationship with ex-wife!” Camille replied, while resorting to her usual practice when very annoyed, which was to poke Richard squarely in the chest.

  
“Oh God! And then you can gloat and tease I suspect. Well Doug Anderson was wrong! I *was* married and I *have* had more than just the one girlfriend you already know about!” Richard announced, although the last part of his sentence didn’t sound quite so convincing.

Camille’s prodding became more intense.

“You are wrong! I don’t want to know so I can gloat or to tease you! Of course, this I cannot *wait* to hear about! I have to since Detective Inspector, you may have a personal interest in this case and that is with your *EX* wife!”

Glaring at her, Richard muttered something under his breath as he climbed into the Defender, pouting. Camille sighed and joined him, starting the car and heading out back towards Honoré.


	4. Chapter 4

They arrived back to the station as the sun was beginning to lower. Camille had decided not to interrogate Richard there and then, but informed him after the end of shift she wanted to know about the ex Mrs. Poole.

Silently, the two walked up the ramp to the station and were greeted by Fidel, who was rising out of his chair.

“Ah, Sir!  I was just going to call you. Marcus, one of the volunteers says they’ve found the bullet, some sort of cloth has been found as well in the foliage near the cliff path plus several tracks leading to it from the area of the car. Dwayne’s bringing the bullet and materials and we’ve arranged for the area to be guarded overnight.”

Richard nodded. “Very good Fidel.  It’s getting dark so we’ll have to take a closer look tomorrow. Anything else?”

“Not for the moment.”

Richard nodded, “Right get on to the airport and tell them we’re sending items across to Basse-Terre. Camille, contact the labs over there and warn them that the evidence is urgent.”

He rubbed his chin and looked at the white board.  There was a wealth of information on *how* the victim was killed, nothing on as to who or why.

Sighing, Richard stepped back. At least he’ll have some time to go out to the site in the morning and have a closer look. But for now his musings were interrupted by Dwayne running in through the door. Richard turned and watched as Fidel, Camille and Dwayne filled out forms, labels etc then quickly packed the items so Dwayne could get them to the airport in time for the last flight out. After Dwayne had disappeared, Richard looked at Fidel, he appeared tired and somewhat down. Richard decided it didn’t need three of them to wait for Dwayne’s return.

“Fidel, you go home. No doubt Juliet would like to see you at a decent hour for a change.” Richard said smiling, but was somewhat taken aback at Fidel’s reaction. His police sergeant just looked at him, put on his cap, nodded and muttered ‘night’ as he walked out of the door.

Camille looked surprised too and faced Richard.

*What!* he mouthed, worried that he had inadvertently said something stupid as usual.

Camille shrugged her shoulders and headed towards the door, but Fidel had already driven off.

Shaking her head she returned to her desk and looked at Richard.

“I didn’t do anything!” He ranted.

“I never said you did!” Camille retorted

 

Soon Dwayne returned from the airport, the packages had been handed over and would be at the main forensics lab and Basse-Terre by midnight after being picked up from Baillif airport.  Once that had been cleared and confirmed by phone, Richard declared the shift was done and the first priority early the next morning would be to examine the murder site.

“Oh no you don’t!” Camille exclaimed as Richard started down the ramp after the station had been locked and secured, “we have some talking to do!”

Richard froze in his tracks.  It was too much to hope for.  The interrogation was about to start.

“Camille, it’s late, I’m tired, we have a long day ahead tomorrow and I...”

“It’s not *that* late Richard! I need to know and we have to figure out what needs to be done since you are personally known to one of the suspects. And of course, I want to know how you ended up marrying such a woman!”

Richard snorted, raising a finger to say something but thought better of it, and glumly allowed Camille to drag him off to her mother’s bar.

 

Fidel approached the small farm and started to aim his car up the track to the main house, but instead he pulled over, nervous and sweating.  Juliet had been gone for two days now and had refused to speak to him on the phone.

Matilda, his mother in law, had insisted that Fidel give Juliet some space, but she would be happy to bring Rosie in to town to see her father.

Fidel couldn’t understand what had happened or why.  Had he not been breaking his neck over the last few months to get a promotion, so that Juliet and Rosie could be cared for and lack for nothing? Did he not do all of that for them?  Why couldn’t Juliet see that!  She and Fidel had known each other for four years before they finally got married three years back.  They had agreed that when children came along, Juliet would stay at home and care for them until they were old enough to attend school.

Yet Juliet had just left with no hint, nothing.  The first Fidel knew was coming home late evening and finding his house in darkness with a note pinned to the front door.  Panicking, he had snatched it thinking it was some kind of ransom note, thinking his family had been harmed.  But what was in the letter completely threw him.

" _...you don’t want me. I have tried my best Fidel but all I seem to be to you is Rosie’s nursemaid and a housekeeper. We haven’t so much as shared a kiss since the last Erzulie festival. I try my best but now, it’s not good enough and I can’t take anymore of this from you...”_

Fidel sighed.  Now was not the time for a fight.  He put the old Citroën into reverse, backing out from the track and on to the road.  He didn’t see the flickering of light from an upstairs window where Juliet had been looking with tears streaming down her face.

 

Back in Honoré, Richard sat stiffly in a chair opposite Camille in a quiet corner of _La Kaz_. He had a bottle of beer in front of him but didn’t feel inclined to drink it, he was too busy bracing himself for the onslaught.

Camille sipped from her tall glass of white rum and lime.  She saw the look on Richard’s face was one of trepidation and his body was rigid, hands below the table as if he was a school boy about to be lectured.

“Relax Richard, I just need to know the basics so we can work out how to deal with your ex-wife in a professional manner, especially as you’re the lead detective.” Camille said quietly.

Richard cleared his throat.

“I met Gillian at a party in a place called Beaconsfield.  We ..er..*cough*.. got together after the party and er....it went from there.  Next minute, I found myself married to a beautiful but very cold woman who, as it turned out only married this then police constable to upset her father.  Six months later I came home from a shift to find she had packed her bags and was waiting for her lover to pick her up.  I think he was some sort of accountant, anyway, that doesn’t matter.  He arrived, she told me I was a lousy.....well, she left and that was that.”

After that, Richard took a deep breath and started to fiddle with his beer bottle, falling silent.

Camille’s heart took a little flip of sorrow. Her colleague certainly didn’t have much luck with relationships, any relationship it seemed. Camille began to understand more why Richard was so closed off sometimes.

“I am sorry Richard. Did you see much of Gillian after that?” She asked.

He looked up briefly at Camille.

“No. No not really. The divorce was quick. Gillian was more than happy to admit adultery and didn’t even bother to ask for maintenance.  Mind you, on my wages she wouldn’t have received much.  No, I never saw her again after that.  Not long after, I transferred from the Met to the Thames Valley Police and became a detective, attended college again and studied a little forensic science for a few years, then transferred back to the Met.  The rest you pretty much know.”

Richard looked down at his beer bottle again, and gave a sigh.  Sitting up, he reached into his jacket, pulled out his wallet and then some cash. Camille placed her hand over his as he put it on the table, startling him a little.

“This is on me.” Camille said.

He nodded and whispered “Thank you.” Clearing this throat yet again, he spoke more formally.

“We need, as you say, to handle this carefully.  Gillian could be a wasp when she put her to mind it and I don’t think much has changed.  I can remember how she would play one against the other and was quite ruthless.  I think you will need to do the talking and gathering from her, and I’ll need a chaperone any time I am in her company.  She and Sir James are involved in this somewhere, my instinct..” He said, while rising out of his chair.

“..instinct!?!” Camille interrupted, laughing.

“Yes, all right! I admit we do use our instincts but the scientific method has always...” Richard stopped in mid rant and looked at Camille who was wiggling her eyebrows. She had done it again, wound him up, sent him up but yet it felt glorious.  Rolling his eyes, Richard picked up his briefcase and headed to the taxi rank.

“Goodnight Camille.  See you in the morning, bright and early!” He called as he went out the door.

Camille smiled back with a little wave, but her heart was breaking for him yet again.

 

 

It was not long after sunrise when the Defender turned off Bluff Road to the clearing.  Dwayne and Fidel were already at the site with about other five volunteer police.  Two were about to leave as they had been at the site the night before guarding it.

After a briefing with the officers, Richard and Camille helped unload the scene of crime equipment.  Putting on shoe covers and arming themselves with gloves etc, the officers headed out to their respective positions.

Richard himself looked in and started to examine around the interior of the car.  The door had been left open exactly as it was found - to preserve the evidence - but much to Richard’s chagrin the local wildlife had started to move in with several large spiders already constructing massive webs which Richard was convinced to catch him unawares.

Managing to almost overcome a sudden rush of arachnophobia, Richard peered in and examined the area around the driver’s seat. He raised himself up a little and then suddenly felt something move across the back of his neck. With a yelp, he jumped and hit his head on the roof before literally falling backwards out of the car and on to his backside, while frantically rubbing and flicking his hands over the back of his head.  He looked up and saw his team stare at him, bewildered as to why their lead detective was sat on the ground yelling and waving his hands about.

“Richard!” Camille called at him, wide eyed, “What is happening to you!”

“Don’t just stand there, some damned spider has jumped on my head! Bet the bloody thing is looking for its breakfast and is going to...arrggghh!!”  He had lept to his feet and was all but dancing about as he then felt something slip behind his collar and down his back.

Camille rolled her eyes and walked quickly to where Richard was running about.  She grabbed him as he ran past.

“Camille...!”

“Richard! STAND STILL! What is the matter!”

“That bloody spider! The damn car is full of ‘em! I’m sure it’s fallen down inside my shirt!”

Camille quickly grabbed Richard’s jacket and started to pull it off. She had difficulty in keeping up with him as he charged about but eventually got him to slow down and managed to remove it.  She looked at his back and because he always wore a light coloured shirt, could just about see a dark shape which appeared to be moving. 

Without even thinking, Camille suddenly grabbed Richard’s shirt, heaved it upwards and as she did, a brown spider dropped out landing by her feet which made Camille jump back a bit while it scuttled off, disappearing into the grass.

Richard stood rigidly still in shock as he felt Camille’s hands suddenly in direct contact with his back while she continued to pull his shirt up almost to his neck.

“What in blistering hell are you playing at, Detective!” Richard yelled, starting to turn but was unable to as Camille had grabbed his arms, pushing them upwards.

“You *did* have a spider down your back, now stand still I’m checking for bites!” She retorted, “do you feel any stinging or pain anywhere?”

“No! Only the pain of you nearly breaking my neck!” Richard shouted back, his shoulders hunched up.

“Well, you are very lucky then because what fell out of your shirt was a brown recluse spider! Quite poisonous with a very bad bite!” Camille retorted and pushed his arms higher up out of the way while she looked for any tell tale inflamed areas. The spider was one of the most venomous in the Caribbean and a bite could result in anything from blistering ulcers to huge necrotic wounds.

Richard froze at that point and began to feel a little faint. He stood rigidly with his arms remaining up in the air while Camille and then Dwayne, who joined them, checked him over carefully for any red raised areas as the bite was not always felt at first.

When they were satisfied that there were no signs of a bite, Richard hastily tucked his shirt back in to his trousers and although his face was the colour of beetroot with embarrassment, continued to direct the search. He shuddered at the thought of a poisonous spider had somehow found its way down the back of his shirt and how close he had come to being bitten.

Aside from that, tracks close to the car and heading off in to the bush indicated something or someone being dragged away. The broken foliage and shreds of clothing also left an obvious trail which stopped suddenly at the edge of the cliff path.  There were some odd foot prints too in parts, possibly where whoever was dragging what had to stop every so often and get a better foothold.

The volunteers also returned to the victim’s car, taking care to out any other insects and spiders before searching under seats and in covered areas. They were used to dealing with the local wild life and Richard was somewhat stunned at the fearlessness of some of his team.  He didn’t want to think of what was lurking around his shack but Harry, a small lizard of the iguana family that also inhabited the place, seemed to help with the pest control. Richard made a mental note that, in future. he was going to be lot more careful when rummaging about under beds, wardrobes and the like.

It took most of the morning to gather everything they could, including some bits overlooked the day before, all bagged and tagged to be sent for analysis and storage for evidence. Once satisfied his team had gathered all they could, Richard authorized the car to be removed (sans spiders and other biting things including the biggest millipede he had never wanted to see, ever) and the area cleared. He had Fidel contact the park authorities to say that part of the bluff was now open.

Once back in Honoré, Richard continued to shiver from the thoughts of having a venomous spider crawl around his back.  When he had a few minutes, Richard quickly looked up the details about _Loxosceles Sicariidaehe_ on the internet and was horrified at the images of necrotic limbs caused by the spider bite. Not all were that bad, but still...!

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to apologise in advance because I have *no* idea how to write crime stories, so am just muddling on with this one and hopefully will come to some sort of conclusion over the next few chapters. *Blushes*!!

Richard braced himself as he knocked on the door of the villa where the Hyde-Bulmers were staying. He needed to question them again and get permission to go through the company books, or a court order if necessary.  Camille was with him and remained silent while they waited for the door to open.

After a short while, the door opened to reveal a somewhat anxious looking Sir James.  He blinked for a moment as if he didn’t recognise the two detectives, but then beckoned them in.

“Sir James, I hope you don’t mind but we need to ask you and Lady Hyde- Bulmer permission to examine the company records here..”

Richard was cut off in mid-sentence as they followed Sir James through to villa to the verandah.

“I’m sorry Inspector, that won’t be possible. Gillian is the director as you know and only she can authorise that.” He said, while almost falling back into his chair.

“We’ll need to speak to Lady Hyde-Bulmer then....”

“Out of the question as well I’m afraid..” Sir James replied. Richard lifted a finger and opened his mouth to object but Sir James carried on speaking,

“..Gillian was taken to the local hospital. Seems the silly woman got an insect bite that has gone a bit toxic. Her arm is in a shocking state!”

Richard’s eyes narrowed. “when did that happen?”

“Oh, she picked it up in the last couple of days. She’s always off somewhere.”

Richard looked at Sir James.

“You told me only yesterday you and Gillian..I mean Lady Hyde-Bulmer.. had been together constantly since your arrival to Saint-Marie?” Richard quizzed

Sir James looked flustered.

“Oh well, you know what we mean as to say yes, we were together but not for *every* minute of the day.  Gillian likes to go for a drive before supper most evenings although sometimes she likes to be out later.  She’s young and likes to enjoy herself whereas I’m quite happy to settle with a brandy and watch the dreadful television here.”

Richard glared at Sir James.

“So you’re telling me that the evening before our first interview and by the way, that is the approximate time of Mr Bayliss’s death, you and Lady Hyde-Bulmer were *not* together all of that time.”

Sir James looked up at Richard and Camille, embarrassed.

“No. She went out for a drive and got back here about nine I believe. I was in bed by then.”

Richard sighed, “So you cannot account for Lady Hyde-Bulmer’s whereabouts during that time.”

“No.” Came back the reply.

“And can anyone account for you during that time, Sir James?” Richard asked.

“Yes, the bar staff over that the main house, I was there from about seven thirty and left at eight forty five, when I got back I went straight to bed.  I heard Gillian come in about nine.”

Richard nodded.  No matter he would speak to Gillian as soon as possible, whether she was hospitalised or not. If she didn’t give permission for the company books to be examined, a court order would sort that.  With a curt nod, Richard reminded Sir James both he and Gillian remained suspects.  At that point He and Camille left.

At the hospital, they found Gillian fit to be interviewed but in pain having been most likely bitten by the type of spider that had fallen down the back of Richard's shirt, and he shuddered again at how close he had come to being bitten as well.

But Gillian was alert and not happy at their visit, especially at the line of questioning Richard was aiming at her.

“We talked to Sir James and as it turns out, you were not together on the evening before Martin Bayliss was found. Can you tell me where you were that evening? “ He asked, struggling to remain indifferent and objective.

“if you must know I went out to meet a ‘friend’ Richard.” Gillian replied, scowling.

“And where can we contact this friend? We need to check Gillian, you know that.”

“Hmmph, I would rather not say Richard, it’s personal.”

“I see.  And personal means not necessarily platonic. A lover?” There was going to be no beating about the bush on Richard’s watch.

Gillian remained silent.

“Gillian, I need to know, to establish your whereabouts and when. You *are* a suspect in this case and I will find out, so it’s better you tell me now. Oh and one other thing, I need to examine your company paperwork here in Saint-Marie because this might have a bearing on the case.”

She shook her head. “No.”

Richard rolled his eyes. “Then i have to inform you then I will have to get a court order, to examine or seize. Up to you.” He wasn’t going to back down.

“Then get a court order Richard. I think this is silly and refuse to co-operate. I’m the director of this branch and what I say goes!”

“A court order it is then.” Richard said, then turned and left without a further word.

After Richard and Camille left, Gillian scrabbled for her mobile phone, rules or no rules, she had an urgent phone call to make.

 

It took about an hour for Richard to get his warrant and another twenty minutes to gain access to the Bulmer Enterprises small office on the Quay. They had to wait for Christopher Laine to arrive with the keys to let them in. Once in Richard waited until Laine collected the documents and records they wanted to examine.

“I’ll need to examine your data base on your hard drives as well.”

Laine looked stricken, “I’ll open them up.”

Camille stood behind Laine as he made a fuss with opening up the company data bases. She then indicated for him to vacate the seat and took over the computer in front.

Richard spoke again, “Mr Laine, I just want to confirm your statement to Sergeants Bordey and Best about your whereabouts on the evening before Bayliss was found?  Just for my own satisfaction.”

“I was with..er..a friend” Laine said quietly and looked down, shuffling his feet.

Richard raised his head slightly and an eyebrow.

“This friend someone you work with by any chance?”

Laine continued to stare down at the floor not saying a word. Richard raised an eyebrow again and sat down to pour through the books and data bases.

He and Camille were going to have a long afternoon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I apologise for my lack of skills in crime writing and the fact the chapters are uneven in length. I'm going to try and wrap this up in Ch 7 as I need to move on with the next 'episode'. So please don't shoot me! *Chews nails*!

As the afternoon wore on, Richard and Camille had poured through the solid documents of Bulmer Enterprises and did not find any obvious irregularities as such. But it was different when they opened up the computer database. After searching though, Camille noticed a small file that had been tucked away in one of the registry folders. An unusual place to keep an accounting file – as it was an excel document.

“Do you have a pass word for this?” Camille asked, looking at Laine. He shook his head.

“No, I don’t have access to that folder. It was Martin’s confidential files, only he or the local company director can see them.”

Richard’s head snapped up.

“By ‘company director’ you mean Lady Hyde-Bulmer?” He asked, his interest piqued.

Laine looked stricken again

“Er, yes. She and Martin oversaw the set up and have built up from there. I..I oversee the goods landing here and the distribution. They ..I mean..Martin did the rest.”

“That’s a little unusual isn’t it? I mean, there is only you and Mr Bayliss as staff out here, yet you don’t have access to this file?”

“I’m not sure. Some of our clients can be..er..sensitive to who.....”

At that point, Laine suddenly stopped. He had said too much.

“I see, “ Richard replied, his eyes taking on the look of something that was cornering its prey.

“Camille, rather than disturb Lady Hyde-Bulmer can you see if you can hack into that thing?”

Camille shot back a wide smile. Richard knew that her ‘IT course' in Paris wasn’t just about admin and documentation but also to learn and develop the specialist skills required with hacking in into accounts. With trafficking prevalent in that part of the Caribbean it was a handy skill to have, especially when trying to keep ahead of paperless accounts and transfers was proving to be tricky. Not everyone kept confidential information in ledgers.

“It will be my pleasure Sir.” She replied, a challenge at last.

Laine began to panic.

“You won’t be able to do it! There is an encryption programme that’s..”

“Got it..” Camille announced, “..just opening up and deciphering.”

Camille’s head drew back and she turned her gaze to Laine and kept her eyes fixed on him as she spoke.

“Sir, I think you might want to come and take a look at this.”

The spread sheets Camille had hacked in to were numerous and not only listed transactions as noted in the printed files but some highlighted in red with what appeared to be code numbers. Richard stood up and walked over to where she was seated. He took a brief look, then moved back to where he had been sitting and picked up a couple of files and looked though them while returning to Camille. He peered at the screen again and hummed briefly.

“Mr Laine, can you tell me about these?” Richard asked while comparing the file in his hand with what was on the screen, “there seems to be some discrepancies between what is recorded here and on your electronic data base?”

Laine tried to look indifferent but it was hard to do so under Richard’s gaze.

“Again, I can’t help you. Martin, as said before is or was the only one who had access to those files.”

Richard pursed his lips and raised his head a little.

“I see. Well we’ll have to confiscate this computer and its hard drive along with the other documents for comparison, so any information you can remember would be helpful. We’ll inform Lady Hyde-Bulmer that these have been seized...” Richard said.

He turned to leave, “Oh and of course need I remind you not to make any plans to leave Saint-Marie for the moment until we’ve eliminated you from our enquiries, in fact we’ll need your passport as soon as possible.”

At that Richard gave a curt nod and went outside to wait for Fidel and Dwayne whom Camille had contacted to come and collect the company computers. It was going to be a long night but Richard felt they were on the brink of at least getting a better lead because on some of the sheets, dated back almost a year before, a name had come up time and time again.

Lily Thompson.

 

 

The sun had sunk below the horizon hours before and it was getting very late as Richard stretched. Every last word in the files and on the data base had been examined and tomorrow he planned to interview Lily Thompson, who was the first person Richard had arrested in Saint-Marie for the murder of DI Charlie Hulme. He thought at the time Lily had been involved with only one human trafficking ring, but it appears her services had been made available to others.

The fact that Martin Bayliss had clearly been cooking the books by laundering cash for persons unknown and had been passing exports of a more than likely illegal nature through Saint-Marie threw up a wealth of motives. It also became apparent that this operation had been set up long before Bulmer Enterprises came in to play and Richard got the feeling Bayliss had introduced his operation to Bulmer’s rather than the other way around.

Certainly the seizure of Bayliss’s assets and a financial trail provided more than enough evidence of his guilt and threw up motives a plenty. The suspect list had shot up as well due to the ever expanding list of names that Camille and Fidel had done a fantastic job of extracting from the supposedly encrypted records.

Calls to Guadeloupe, the Caymans, SOCA and Interpol were throwing up results left, right and centre. Again, Richard wished they had the resources to dig deeper but what they had was a great start for other agencies to follow up.

There was also a hint that a shipment of some sort was due in Honoré within that week, Laine was still claiming ignorance and there wasn’t any definite reason to hold him in custody that moment, for all that he had protested he knew nothing about Bayliss using the company for illegal trafficking. Richard hoped he could get more out of Lily tomorrow.

As for Sir James and Gillian’s involvement, Richard was convinced that Gillian had a hand in this too. She was no slouch and very little escaped her radar and there was no way she would not have been aware that her employees were on the take, indeed had probably introduced her to a more lucrative business. All Richard had to do was find the connections, but it still didn’t help in identifying Bayliss’s murderer.

He sighed again. It was late and the others were looking tired. Richard stood up.

“Alright, time to shut up shop and go home. We’ll start again tomorrow.” He said quietly.

“Did you want me to pick you up in the morning Sir?” Camille asked.

Richard nodded, “Yes, about seven if you please and I *will* be up and ready.” He said with a slight rise of an eyebrow. Camille had developed a habit of turning up early lately, usually before Richard had chance to dress, often teasing him about his pyjamas which didn’t help.

She smiled in response and made a note to be at Richard’s shack earlier than that. Seeing him in those pyjamas cheered her up no end, but Camille wouldn’t fully admit to herself why.

 

 

“I told you to lay low Chris!!”

“Look, I *had* to speak to Martin! He seemed to be getting a bit lax then the stupid bugger goes and gets himself killed! What if it’s one of our clients! You don’t mess with people like that unless you want a short life span! The goods are going to be here in a few days and the others will not be happy we’ve become the focus of the local police!”

“Darling, please don’t panic. Martin had what was coming to him, playing fast and loose like that, he’s better out of the picture.”

“Oh? That’s a casual attitude to take towards the murder of an employee! That expendable are we!”

“Look! You knew the risks when you signed up for this. I’m just as worried as you are but Martin was greedy. He got what he deserved! At least there’ll be a little more to go round. Keep your hands clean and toe the line, all will be well. Ok? Now don’t you worry, it’ll all turn out for the best.”

Chris Lane suddenly became very afraid, more than ever before in his life. The ‘get rich quick’ plan he had fallen for because he wanted to impress the boss and have an early retirement was back firing badly. He suddenly realised at that moment who it was that killed Martin, and that person was sitting right in front of him seeming not to have a care in the world. Time to escape and damn the consequences! He was not going to hang around after the shipment had been processed and end up like his colleague. The situation was getting out of hand and the senior partner was going off their head. Nope, after tomorrow he was out of there!

 

 

Richard jumped a little at the sound of the security gate locking behind him. He obediently placed his briefcase in the tray in front, removed his jacket and emptied his trouser pockets before stepping back and raising his arms while a detector wand was waved over him. It was his third visit to the small but highly secure Saint-Marie prison, surgically clean, bright and oppressive as hell.

After passing through several rigorous security checks and endless gates, he found himself sat in a plain room at a desk. Another door to his side opened and a female prison guard walked in ahead of Lily Thompson who was at the time of her arrest, a police sergeant who turned out to be a murderer. She had aged, Richard thought, and had lost a considerable amount of weight. It didn’t help of course, that Lily was isolated from the rest of the prison population given that she helped to put some of them in there so effectively was going to live out her sentence – and in Saint-Marie life literally meant life – in solitary confinement.

She sat the table opposite, her head held back a little as she looked him up and down.

“So you stayed then, eh Inspector.”

Richard continued to prepare his notes, then looked up at her in return.

“Yes, I did and haven’t regretted it.”

Lily leaned forward.

“That’s not what I heard Inspector, I hear you don’t like the sand, the sea, everything and you still have your jacket on!” She said, smiling.

“Your information is a bit out of date Lily. Anyway, I’m here to ask you about another little ‘venture’ you have been involved in. It seems that James Lavender, Lord Salcombe wasn’t the only person you had been offering your services to.” Richard paused for a moment while he looked through his notes. He sat back in the chair and placed his hands on the table in front looking directly at Lily as he continued talking.

“We’re investigating the murder of one Martin Bayliss who was a local manager for a company called Bulmer Enterprises and we have come to discover that they had been trading though Saint-Marie before they had even set up office, with your name coming up in quite a few of the ledgers. Would you care to comment on that?”

Lily glared back at him, then folded her arms and looked away. Her lips tightly shut.

“No? You’re already serving a double life sentence for murder and spending most of that in solitary. What would you lose in helping us?”

Lily unfolded her arms and leaned forward, raising an eyebrow.

“So I still have my uses then Inspector, glad to know it but whether I am prepared to depends on what I get in return.”

Richard gazed at her.

“What is it you want Lily?”

“Better living conditions. I have one small cell on my own, grey walls with no view. I would love to see the mountains once in a while.”

“Don’t you get that with your exercise period?”

“All I get is an hour out in an overheated concrete yard and there’s not much of a view in that.”

“But you have to be kept in a high security area Lily, for your own safety.”

She sat back and looked away.

“Look, I know I’m in here until I drop or someone gets to me first. There are cells with a view and if I have to spend the rest of my natural life here, at least let me see a bit of green now and then. I’m prepared to take the risks.”

“I’ll see what I can do Lily, but it will depend on what you can or are willing to tell us and what the prison governor will allow.” Richard replied.

“Ok, then I will tell you what I know, but that’s it after this you understand. Some of the people James Lavender traded with are, what one could say, very protective of their interests. My job as you know was to falsify documents and avoid the customs here getting in the way. I don’t know Martin Bayliss but I do know Bulmer’s came from nowhere and offered a good incentive for me to keep an eye on things for them as well.”

Richard nodded.

“And could you tell me more of their operation and who they are involved with?”

“They were trading through St Lucia and Belize as far as I know. They are legit but one of their directors thought a little sideline would bring in some more revenue. I don’t know who that is but it’s someone who Lavender knew in London.”

Richard nodded again.

“Does the name James Hyde-Bulmer mean anything to you?”

“No.”

“Gillian Hyde-Bulmer.”

“No.”

“Who then?”

“I don’t know. It was always anonymous I guess so I wouldn’t give anything away. But it is one of the directors. Picked that up from ‘conversations’ I got to overhear once in a while.”

Richard pursed his lips. In his head, little threads were beginning to connect. The suspect list was narrowing down to his ‘ex’ and an employee who was most likely her lover.

“One last question, how often did this ‘branch’ come through Saint-Marie and what did they trade?”

“Well they were only really starting out but usually about once a month, but you must know what they traded if you’ve seen the books inspector.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Well, cocaine of course. We had to take care because there are some cartels who were getting involved that Lavender really wanted to avoid if possible as they are dangerous to deal with. But Bulmer’s had better connections and was useful as a front, from what I remember and could find out, but no I don’t know who ran it and didn’t want to. So long as I got paid that’s all that mattered. Now, is that everything Inspector?” Lily said, her eyes not once leaving Richard’s face.

Richard nodded again.

“Most helpful thank you. I will talk to the prison governor and see what can be done to make you more comfortable but I can’t offer any guarantees of course.”

And with that, He rose, gave Lily a curt nod and left the room.

It was all coming together and Richard did not like what he was discovering one little bit.


	7. Chapter 7

Fidel Best stared at his monitor but did not see any of the contents on display.  The previous evening, he had met up with his mother-in-law to see Rosie, who was as energetic as ever.  On their first meeting after Juliet had left him, Fidel had expected arguments with Matilda, but none happened.  She had sat back quietly as Fidel played with Rosie and patiently waited.  Matilda didn’t volunteer any information about Juliet unless Fidel asked, but today was different.  He had to finally face up to having a conversation about what had happened with Juliet but didn’t even begin to know where or how to start.  Matilda in her wise way had put him straight.

  _“So how is Juliet?”_

_“Why don’t you ask her yourself young man?”_

_“I..I don’t think she wants to speak to me. She hasn’t tried to contact me at all...I..”_

_“But you haven’t tried to contact my daughter either.”_

_“But how can!!  I’ve been.....”_

_“Too busy to try and find out *why* your wife, *my* daughter walked out on you?”_

_“Look we have been....”_

_Fidel, you are going to have to decide for once and all, which is the more important!  Your job or your family!”_

_But......”_

_"Listen to me young man, and listen to me good. I’m not here to judge you or to tell you what you should do.  That is between you and Juliet, but what I can tell you is this."_

_"You know Juliet’s father was a police constable with the old force, and all the way through the changes that came when the French handed us back. Now as you know, Juliet has six sisters and two brothers and all we had apart from the very small wage from Dixon’s work was our small holding...”_

_“But....”_

_"No! Let me finish!  I have a *lot* to say so you had better open your ears to me young man! Like you, Dixon worked hard and got a promotion. Like you he worked all the hours of the day and night and I doubt Juliet saw any more of her father than Rosie does with you but, and here’s the thing Fidel, that man never walked into our house without kissing each of his children and me first before anything else. Even though, *even* though we saw very little of him during the week, there was never a time when we did not feel loved.  When he came home, he respected the fact I kept house, that I had the large part of raising his children, that my work was *as* important as his. I respected the fact he would need all of our support and patience, that his work was important too."_

_"Juliet knows this, which is why she was happy to marry you and accept the challenges that brings. But she *needs* to feel needed by you Fidel, she needs to feel that she counts for something in your marriage other than being just a baby farm for your genes and your housekeeper. Ever since your promotion she tells me she feels that you have changed, that she is no longer important to you now that you have started to climb that ladder. I’m not saying that it’s how it is, I don’t know as I’m not married to you. But whatever the situation, she feels you don’t respect her. “_

_Matilda looked away for a moment, then cast her care worn face back at her son-in-law_

_"..and in case you are wondering, I’ve told my darling daughter to be more respectful of you too. You have both made the same mistake of not listening and not talking. If you want to remain happily married Fidel, I suggest you learn how to communicate as a person again, not as a policeman. Dixon knew when to take his hat off and leave it at the door when he came home. It didn’t destroy his career and he always had a safe place of love to come back to because of it and I learned that if I was patient I would have a strong loving husband by my side. It’s up to Juliet and you now.”_

Those words were still ringing around Fidel’s head when he felt a sharp tap on his shoulder.  He jumped a little and blinked hard, realising his eyesight was blurred by tears.  Rubbing his eyes, Fidel looked up at Dwayne’s intense gazed.

 “You ok man?”  Dwayne asked. It had shocked him to walk into the station to find Fidel staring blankly at nothing, with tears pouring down his face.

 “Er, yes *cough*, I’m fine Dwayne, fine.”

“I might not be the brightest police officer here Fidel, but I suggest you try a different answer, preferably a more truthful one..!”

Fidel had no choice and so gave in, feeling ashamed, but glad that the world did not end when he finally opened up to his older, wiser colleague and friend.

 

Richard pulled the Defender over to a clearing, needing to stop and think.  That little tune was going off in his head which signalled it was all coming together, but instead of feeling elated he felt drained, his past haunting him yet again for all that justice would be done.   Although Lily couldn’t name names, it gave Richard enough information to be able to tie things together.

There was really only one person who would be capable of committing a murder in such a cool manner but who would have allowed their ego make them clumsy. There would be the inevitable reveal, but first there was a search and seize to arrange and for the first time in his posting here in Honoré, firearms to be issued to the few who were trained to use them.  And God help the guilty person who murdered Martin Bayliss, because when Richard found out who one of the ‘customers’ were on that list, he knew they would not tolerate mistakes and not even the most sophisticated police force in the world could fully protect them.

Camille had finished copying downloads from the Bulmer Enterprises hard drive.  She felt a stab of fear on seeing a couple of the names that came up after she hacked in to the encryptions on the data bases, as memories of a particularly horrific undercover operation surfaced, that had spectacularly backfired and got her team killed, including someone so dear to her heart, as well as landing Camille in hospital for the best part of three months. 

Despite a commendation for bravery and service beyond the call of duty, she still felt she had badly let her team down and of course, there was some unfinished business that would have to be completed at some point. 

Fidel and Dwayne were leaving the station as she had arrived to go on a patrol but she had noticed how tired and depressed Fidel was looking. Her mother had heard he and Juliet were having problems, but knowing how small island talk could spread and change, she had thought it prudent not to say anything.  Her reverie was broken by Richard’s voice calling over the radio.

“Base one from Poole…” 

Camille answered the call. She was to contact the Commissioner then organise a stake out crew for a search and seizure come sundown.  All were to be at the station asap for a briefing.  With that, she picked up the phone and started dialling, her hands shaking a little as she did so.

 

Miguel Jose lightly dipped his finger into the opened package in front of him, drawing a tiny sample of the pure white powder that lay within.  The stuff was pure grade and one bag would fetch hundreds of thousands on the streets alone, after it had been cut so many different ways.  Once it was clear of Honoré, the business arm would shut down there as word had it the main go between had been killed.  It was too late to divert but that would not pose too much of a problem.  He had heard of course about the Brit cop who had done a lot of damage to the independent traffickers in the area, but he would not be too much of a problem to solve either.  He looked up at his men.

“Good stuff, but after the transfer, we clean out and arrange a couple of accidents. Stephan, you deal with the witness in the prison there, we’ll deal with the others. Honoré will be invoking Papa Legba a lot in the next few days.”

He smiled but with no sense of joy, just of reminding all in the room that smile had better be rewarded or suffer the consequences. A stare at his lieutenants had them scatter quietly from the room.  They needed no second instruction.

 

Charge Nurse Casper Deloir flew past the nurses station to grab the emergency rescus trolley, not that it would do any good. He had felt her leave and knew she would not be back, but still they had to try. Tracey was ushering the next of kin into a side room while the team descended on the patient to commence crash procedures.  After thirty minutes, Dr Adrian Rutherford called a halt as the ECG went from Ventricular Fibrillation into asystole.

Gillian Hyde-Bulmer was dead.

 

Christopher Laine was sweating, not just from the humidity but also from panic and fear.  The shipment was arriving any second now, and he was to get it swapped and loaded as quickly as possible.  He did try to warn the contacts that the police had been investigating and had gone over the books, but the reply was that in no uncertain terms was the shipment to be delayed.

The small cove where the exchange was to take place was well away from Honoré to the south of the island, a last minute change in venue.  Laine had taken his time driving there, occasionally doubling back on side roads in order to ensure he wasn’t being followed. The shipment was small enough to be stored in his Mitsubishi 4x4 and would be swapped for the empty containers he had in the back of the car.

Eventually, he saw a light appear in the cove and could hear the distant thrum of a boat engine of some size.  The customers were not ones to use small sail boats, preferring large yachts to cruise in.  He raised his hand and signalled back with his torch, but keeping out of sight as the vessel drew closer.  It signalled back and Laine cautiously stepped out on to the beach, barely able to make out the shape of a smaller craft being launched.  Laine signalled again as the launch drew closer and he made his way to the water’s edge, noting there were about five or six dark clad figures in the launch.  He backed up a little bit as the launch suddenly slid up the beach but froze as the figures stood up, one in particular had had no problem recognising.

“Don’t move! Camille...”

Richard Poole waited until his task force climbed onto the beach before joining them.  Behind him, Laine saw a Coast guard vessel come alongside the yacht.

“Christopher Laine, I am arresting you for smuggling illegal substances and contraband though Saint-Marie.....”

At that point, Laine stopped listening and placed his hands behind his back to be cuffed.

 

At the same time Martin Laine was being arrested, Lily Thompson was rolling around her cell in agony.  Two wardens had heard her screaming and were trying to examine her when Lily suddenly froze, fitted and turned blue.  Despite their best efforts, Lily never did get the chance to see the mountains one more time.

On an adjoining road by the prison entrance, Juliana Peters smiled as package was handed to her though a car window.   She did not speak nor tried to look at whoever was passing her the package.  She was pleased to administer a little justice of her own and make a small amount of cash in the process.  She would celebrate the demise of the bitch who had arrested her Cyril and had sent him to an early grave to cover her own tracks.  Walking off down the road, Juliana felt her grief lift at last.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! It's a bit rubbish but here's the last chapter of this 'Episode'. Sorry, I just do not know how to write crime so might make the rest of this 'Season' more character based but that doesn't mean we're actually *done with* crime! Anyway, be gentle!

As Dwayne and Fidel ushered Laine in to the Honoré Police cells, Richard checked with the prison and Commissioner’s office that the crew from the boat were safely in custody.  The boat had been seized as it arrived into Saint-Marie waters by the Coast Guard vessel ‘Alacrity’ with Richard and his task force of eight local volunteer and full time police who were armed, led by Camille.  On board was a haul of cocaine estimated to be in the millions, part of which would be distributed though Saint-Marie on to the other islands in the Lesser Antillies.

It had been a good bust, however there was one item of unfinished business to attend to.  Richard had received a call from Sir James Hyde-Bulmer asking him to attend the hospital but wouldn’t go into details except it was about Gillian.  Richard had hoped to do a reveal but there was no way he would remove Laine out of the cells right about now, but he was going to reveal and make the arrest for Martin Bayliss’s murder.  Leaving Fidel in charge of the station, Richard and Camille left to head on over to the hospital to complete the case so that part of it could move on to the Commissioner’s Office and be referred on.

When Richard and Camille arrived at the hospital, they were met by Casper.

“We’re here to see Gillian Hyde-Bulmer which might actually lead to her arrest Casper, we’ll need to..”

Casper raised his hand.

“I’m sorry Inspector, that won’t be possible..”

Richard and Camille looked at each other and before Richard could respond,

“She died about thirty minutes ago. We tried to contact you on behalf of Sir James but you were out on your call.”

Camille rolled her eyes and turned away, hand on her hips, head down and groaned.

Richard stood still, again lost briefly in memories of the past falling for a woman who for a few nights showed him what pleasure was about, and then who slowly but surely ripped him apart after they married. Yet for all of her vindictive personality disordered ways, she had been a part of his life and the only person he had married. Instead of feeling glad, or at the least relieved, Richard felt deeply saddened. He blinked at Camille lightly tapping him on his shoulder.

“Richard..” She whispered, and indicated her head in the direction of the corridor where they saw Sir James slowly walking towards them his head hanging down, looking haggard and older than his eighty three years. 

Richard approached him quietly, briefly resting his hand on Sir James’ arm.

“My condolences. We’ve only just found out.”

Sir James looked up at Richard.

“She started this mess with Bayliss, didn’t she Inspector.”

Richard in turn hung his head low and cleared his throat. He looked over to Casper who was quietly arranging paperwork at the Nurses station, *could we...?* Casper nodded, knowing what Richard was about to ask for and lead the two men to an empty side room. Richard looked at Camille and indicated to her that she should join them.

Sir James sat heavily down on a sofa, momentarily resting his head in his hands before looking up at Richard.

“You came here to arrest Gillian, didn’t you Inspector.” He said, matter of factly.

Richard gazed at the floor, his hands clasped behind his back, then raising his chin before a brief lift up on to his toes.

“Yes, I’m sorry to say, we were, for the murder of Martin Bayliss.”

Richard looked at Sir James as he drew a deep breath and felt a sharp stab of pity.  Unclasping his hands, Richard didn’t see a foolish old man who wanted a beautiful ornament to show off at socials and polo parties, but another person who had been slowly and surely broken by a beautiful sociopath who had still managed to capture their hearts.

“Look, I’m sure you don’t want to...”

Sir James interrupted.

“Yes I do! I want to know all the details that I have managed to miss, even Inspector those things that maybe I didn’t want to acknowledge either, so spell it out to me in detail and please don’t hold back. Maybe I might actually learn something in the few remaining years I have left.”

The rhumey eyes glared at Richard, insisting he speak.

“As you wish.  Of course this started a year or so back, with Gillian meeting James Lavender in London. As I am sure you are more than aware, Gillian is not shy in using anyone who may be useful to her,  to further her ambitions one of which was to make a lot of money from Bulmers."

"But in order to do that, to branch out into another line of profitable marketing, she and Bayliss needed somewhere not so obvious to set up shop.  I suspect that Lavender had a hand in helping Bulmer’s to start up here."

"In recent months since Lavender's murder and the demise of his business, Gillian grabbed the chance to expand now that Bulmer’s were the only export company with connections to operate under your legitimate name.  But it seems that both Gillian and Bayliss were getting greedy.  Gillian had started to siphon a little more profit than she should have, and of course Martin Bayliss who was Gillian’s… wanted in on this too….”

“I know they were lovers Inspector, but please carry on…”

Richard cleared his throat and continued.

“Understood.  Because Gillian was possibly being blackmailed by Bayliss, I guess she felt it was time their working relationship was brought to an end."

"It was difficult at first because even though there were only ever three main suspects in this case, yourself included of course, there was no clear evidence who had killed Bayliss.  Christopher Laine was eliminated as we picked up on his messages left on Bayliss’s mobile phone and confirmed where he was when he sent them.  You have an alibi by the fact you were in the bar at your hotel at the time it was estimated Bayliss was most likely killed."

"Gillian found out that Bayliss was planning to blackmail her and that he was going to meet up Laine to hatch a plan.  She saw to it that Laine would not make that rendezvous by sending him a message that the meeting was cancelled.  When Bayliss had shown up, he was met by your wife, who shot him at point blank range while she was sat in his car.  She then proceeded to somehow drag Bayliss out from the car, through twenty five yards of jungle to the cliff edge and dropping him over it.  We now know she was there as fragments of material have since been identified made from a very expensive blouse, of the type Gillian was wearing when we first interviewed you.  I know enough about Gillian that she had this peculiar habit of buying everything in pairs.”

Richard’s statement was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door.

“Sorry to disturb you Inspector, Sir James but I do need to inform you about Lady Hyde-Bulmer’s death.”

Richard stepped back a little as Dr Rutherford sat next to Sir James.

“I need to tell you that your wife died from septicaemic shock, Sir.  The spider bite she had became necrotic to the point where we could not arrest the damage nor stop the tissue death.  It’s rare but because your wife delayed getting medical help,  the toxins had already started to take too much of a hold.”

Richard’s head snapped up “A *spider* bite?”

“Yes Inspector, it seems that Lady Hyde-Bulmer sustained a toxic spider bite, most likely a Brown Reclusive.  Not so common here in houses but certainly there are nests of them in the bush along the coast.  We get on average two to three bite victims a year which have been successfully treated up to this point, but then they come to us quickly.  it seems Lady Hyde-Bulmer tragically decided to leave hers for a few days before seeking help.”

Richard nodded but also began to feel a little light headed.  He imagined the spider that had fallen inside his shirt could have been the very one that had bitten Gillian, bringing he guessed a natural justice for his ex-wife’s crimes.   He sat down and rubbed his hands over his face.

Case closed, eleven arrests in the biggest case Saint-Marie had seen to this date, but Martin Bayliss’ murderer would not be standing trial.

 

Two days later, Richard sat back and stretched in his chair.  It had been one hell of a week, two murders in as many days plus the death of the main suspect who was guilty of one of them but who had died before she could be brought to trial.  He felt sad about Gillian but her death brought no more of a sadness to him than he would feel of any suspect.  Then of course, Lily Thompson had died in her cell from what had been confirmed as arsenic poisoning.  That would be investigated of course, but for now all he wanted to do was go back home to his shack, shower, pyjamas on and just rest. 

The cold he had feel come on in the last four days did not seem to amount to much.  The last present from the UK Richard thought, somewhat bitterly. He still had a bit of a cough though, but hid it as best he could to save himself being berated for being a total baby by Camille

His reverie was broken by Dwayne entering the station.

“Evening Chief, all clear and peaceful out in the roads for now. Did you want a drink?” he asked Poole, while pointing to a kettle.

Richard shook his head and looked at Dwayne.

“Dwayne, may I ask you something? Lily Thompson. You and Fidel haven’t really said anything about what has happened and don’t seem to be upset over her death. Yet she was your colleague for over five years. I’m not getting at you, I’m just, well, asking.. er hope you don’t mind”

Dwayne stopped in his tracks and looked at Richard.  The Chief had rarely asked about anyone’s feelings.

“You want to know if Fidel and me are upset in any way about Lily. To be honest Chief, I can’t speak for Fidel but I don’t feel and think too much about it, I'm not not happy or sad. But still very angry I had to help get her arrested, because of what she did.”

Richard remained silent. It had been a long time since Lily’s arrest and trial.  No one had spoken of it since but he knew it wasn’t that simple and could hear the anger rising in Dwayne’s voice.

“Chief, if you don’t mind, I’m only going to say this once.  I don’t get overly emotional or attached to senior officers because I have seen them come and go over the years, all from England or elsewhere but none that I know of have ever been from Saint-Marie.  The highest rank anyone here has made is sergeant.  Lily had ambitions and I could almost sympathise with her frustration at never being able to go beyond that, but not to use it as an excuse to become corrupt or a murderer. She let us down badly and I don’t want to talk about this ever again.”

Richard nodded slowly.

“Understood. Thank you Dwayne”

Dwayne nodded and proceeded to put the secret lessons that he had with Camille and Catherine to good use, and that was how to make the perfect cup of tea for his Chief and friend.


End file.
